


Fancy That

by papirtrane



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 03:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papirtrane/pseuds/papirtrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has a frustrated rant about Sherlock's use of the fridge and Sherlock discovers his off-switch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fancy That

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly little thing that I did a while ago. I'm completely new here, so I'm posting this mostly as a test. Still, I hope you enjoy it! I had fun writing it.

Opening the fridge one morning to find something edible for breakfast, John finds that Sherlock has exchanged the entire contents of it with glass bottles containing the preserved bladders from both humans and several different species of animals. More disturbing still, Sherlock must have done all this between half past two last night and six this morning. John, way too used to this kind of thing than he really wants to admit himself, just sighs. Sherlock is sitting in his armchair, completely emerged in some book or other. He does not seem to have even noticed John coming into the room.

“Sherlock,” John says wearily, “what have you done with all our food?”

“Mm,” is all Sherlock mutters.

“Sherlock,” John says, a little louder and more demanding this time.

“What is it, John?” Sherlock asks, not looking up from his book.

“Our food! Where's it gone?”

“Oh, I threw it out. No room for my bladders.”

“You what?” John says. He means to sound shocked and appalled, but it comes out as more of a weary sigh than anything else.

“Why, do you need it?”

“Sherlock, honestly, what kind of question is that? I'm going to work today, I need my breakfast. Really, this is getting ridiculous. We had lots of food in there, lots of good food that is now completely wasted. Do you even think about the environment? Not to mention the poor children starving in less well-off countries than England? They would cry, seeing you throw away something as precious as good, healthy food. And your experiments are getting out of hand, really. What in the name of God do you need with all those bladders anyway? No wait, don't tell me. I don't wanna hear it. But today, you'll be the one doing the shopping. I mean it. And not just for me, you need to eat more yourself too. I've told you hundreds of times, but you never listen. Now off you go, you're even dressed. Do something productive. Off your arse. Come on now, Sherlock. Don't be such a child.”

Putting down his book, Sherlock stands up and walks over to John.

“Okay good, Sherlock. You've been here all weekend, doing nothing but reading, time you got out of the apartment. You know, it's all just--” but John is cut off mid-sentence as he feels Sherlock's lips on his forehead, soft and warm. He feels his cheeks heat up. 

Sherlock looks down at him, smiling smugly. “Hah, it worked,” he announces cheerfully.

“Wh-what worked?” John asks in a bit of a daze.

“I was wondering if I could get you to shut up by kissing you on the forehead. And it worked. Fancy that!”

John smiles weakly, not entirely sure if Sherlock is being rude or not. “Yeah, fancy that.”


End file.
